Overturns Conviction
by misfiresmayhem
Summary: She leans forward and your brain goes into overload. You can't seem to register the situation. All you know is that her lips are on yours and you're not responding. Short little ficlets based on the progression of Cosima and Delphine's relationship.
1. Why are you being so coy?

_**A/N -** __I own nothing but my imagination. Title refers to a line from the song Title Track by Death Cab for Cutie. I do plan on adding to this thus keeping it open as 'in-progress' but I'm currently doing a tv meme on tumblr so it might take a while depending on how things work out._

* * *

You're in her apartment. Her apartment that is warm, cozy and everything you believed it would be. It suits her so well; stylish, organised and you wonder what the other clone's apartments would look like, assuming they live in such. And it gets you thinking, about what you know about her. You've only monitored her for a while, a couple of weeks at most but somehow, despite it clearly being illogical, you feel like you known her your whole life. She used to be a simple tag number, one you know off by heart, and yet in such the short time you've actually known her she became so much more then that.

She's no longer 324B21 but she's Cosima Niehaus. A living breathing person (if you could say so), with feelings and ideas and morals and you wish you had began to monitor her earlier, not to get ahead in your research but rather so you had met this wonderful, amazing woman long before. Because now she's become so much to you, so much a part of you and honestly, she hasn't got the fainest clue.

She's poured herself a glass of wine, takes a sip or two and concentrates on the business card in hand. You make your presence known, hands on hips and a sly smile on your face.

'Working with Dr. Leekie could be the opportunity of a lifetime." You state.

It's a fact. For Cosima working with Leekie certainly _would _be the opportunity of a lifetime, atleast that's how it was for you.

You'd been studying, you got your doctorate in immunology but from there nothing really materialised. You applied to science institutions in various different countries with the hopes of finally getting your dream job. Nothing. Then, out of the blue, you're invited to work at the Dyad Institue. At first you can't believe your luck, then you meet Dr. Aldous Leekie and he comes off as a reasonable man. He explains an experiment, refers to it as 'Like non-other' and starves you of information until you accept the post.

How could you not?

Your job became clear soon after. A human clone (you had to admit and first you couldn't believe a word of it) had contracted a fatal illness. Your job? Find the cure. Then you became a monitor not because that's what you wanted but because that's what you were ordered to do. Nobody disobeys Leekie, absolutley nobody.

'I know...I know' She replies with a sigh. You can't help but wonder for a brief moment what it must be like to wake up to that. The morning light seeping through your window and the stirring of the figure next to you letting out a soft but audible sigh, clearly content by the ventures the night before...

You're pulled out of your thoughts with immediate effect. You feel ashamed. Not because of how you feel towards a woman, as a sciencist you know that society codifies attraction contary to the biological facts, but rather for doing so towards a person you're effectively lieing to. To a person who doesn't really know you at all and a person you absolutely fear finding out about you.

'Then why are you being so coy?'

Coy meaning affectedly shy or reserved; slyly hesitant; coquettish. It's not like her, that's not how she is and you damn right know it. It doesn't even mean a thing, in this moment, that you know her well because anyone could see that isn't a characteristic that you could ever associate her with. Does she know something and is simply not letting on? Is she as clueless to your intentions as she seems?

'Don't you think' she takes a deep breath 'it's time that we admit what this is really about?'

Her words hit you like a train and fear washs over your face in mere seconds. She must know something and you can no longer seem to function. Your mouth opens but your breath is caught in your throat and words aren't being stringed together in your head. The fear is overwhelming and you prepare for the worst.

She takes a step forward and her eyes don't leave yours for a second. Her gaze burning into you. Her hand finds your shoulder and you tense under the touch. She leans forward and your brain goes into overload. You can't seem to register the situation. All you know is that her lips are on yours and you're not responding. It feels praticed. Not forced or plain or untruthful, but rehearsed and perfected because that's what it is; perfect. It's perfect because it's short and sweet and it's brought back the butterflies you felt that time you kissed her on the cheek after stealing some wine. It's perfect because it's a first time thing, it's not hot and passionate yet it holds such admiration and emotion and though your eyes remain open you must kiss her back before pulling away. Simply because it was perfect.

'I..um' You're at a loss for words and again your mind fails you. You can understand complex coded patterns and sequences but you can't form words after a brief kiss.

Your shaking your head and you're not quite sure why. You don't know what you're trying to tell her, that you're not gay? No, you shake your head because you don't trust yourself to speak and you suddenly find the urge to leave.

She is flustered and embarassed and you desperatley want to tell her why you needed to back away. Though you can't for the sake of the experiment and that fucking pains you.

'Oh god Delphine' Cosima nervously laughs 'did I make a huge mistake?'

Of course she did, or so your mind tells you. It blames you also for not picking up on the signals. For being so unaware. You really don't want to leave now, you want to pretend it was all a misundrstanding whilst the butterflies still rage on inside your stomach but you know you can't, you musn't.

'I have to go.' You reply. Nervous laughter rolling off your tongue the same way your stupid excuse for leaving does. Looks like you got your voice back.

'It's okay..' You hesitate for a moment before uttering a simple and, quite franky, insulting 'Bye.'

You hear her say your name and you're reminded of how you love the way she makes it sound. The way it makes you feel as if it were made specifically for just her to say and from all your wildest fanatasies this is one you like the most.

You've already left before she can say anymore, do anymore to try to get you to stay. You're a complete and utter coward and you rue the day you became a monitor of a human clone. No, scratch that. You rue the day when you fell, head over heels, slowly but surely enough, in love with your experiment subject.

What a coward.


	2. Filter slips

It's only been days since you last spoke but it feels like years. You understand it's absurd, altogether fallacious but your mind begs to differ. Time has become meaningless to you. Every waking moment you endure is spent thinking of nothing but that kiss. Likewise your dreams are filled with such, and much, much more. Filled with lingering touches, chastle kisses and the contact of lips to skin. Sometimes you wake up in a sweat, your muscles aching and the space between your legs throbbing seeking nothing less then her simple touch.

You decide you've had enough.

You can't make excuses anymore. You've been advoiding her, conjuring up more and more lies of why you can't see her not only to Aldous, to her but also to yourself. You want to see her but you don't allow yourself to believe it, not even for a mere second.

It's time to stop lying.

Thoughts rush through your mind at an intense rate, all consisting of what you're going to say when you see her again. And on cue, there's the butterflies again. It really doesn't take much for them to reappear. Fleeting thoughts of her lips, her smile, her eyes, her hair, her smell, just her. Any and every thought you have of her makes you feel lovesick. Truthfully you are - lovesick - but you know what else you are? A fool. You're a fool for leaving her after she first kissed you, a fool for dismissing her feelings and the biggest god-damn fool to ever walk the earth for making her feel like she made a mistake. It wasn't a mistake, it _isn't_ a mistake because no mistake could ever feel so right, so beautiful and no mistake could ever be as perfect as that kiss was.

Go after her.

You're not quite sure how you got here but you're outside her apartment with nothing to show but a poxy leaflet for the Dyad Institute. How smooth. She opens the door, clearly surprised you've shown up. Exchanging pleasantries, you mutter something about how you hope you're not disturbing her. One part of you wants her to be busy so you can leave and think this whole thing through. The other part of you however needs you to be ready, needs to make clear that her kissing you wasn't a mistake and even though you won't mention it, you'd want her to know that you can't stop thinking about that kiss.

Too late, your filter slipped.

She hesitates before answering, her voice slightly shaken and you can tell she's nervous but you don't let on. 'Er, like in a, not, bad way?'. She takes you off guard but really you should of seen it coming. What else did you expect her to say? Or do..

Say something, and fast.

You babble on about bisexuality and the codification of attraction. Her response is sweet, and despite your nerdy analysis of sexuality, she smiles at you as if you told her that you aligned the stars specifically to spell out her name. Your heart races when she mentions that it's 'totally encouraging'. She's testing you. Giving you an option. It's your decision, kiss her or leave. Kiss her or leave. Kiss her. Leave.

You make up your mind.

* * *

_**A/N - **I just wanted to update this with a short chapter because I've so busy lately. I think we all know what's gonna happen next but I wanted this section separate from the next part because the next part is going to be a really personal chapter based on, what is considered, a life-changing moment for Delphine. It wouldn't do it justice in my opinion to put it with this part. _

_P.S - Thanks for follows!_


	3. Eskimo Pies and anomalies

Your thumb travels delicately along her slightly parted lips and her eyes flicker. Your face is stern, not to convey disgust or anger but rather antonyms of the words and your eyes are locked with hers not once daring to break that connection.

Hands connect with skin and the feeling residing in your stomach as you bend down to kiss her is none other then the butterflies you first felt after stealing wine from Dr. Leekie's lecture. Her arms wrapped around your neck, she forces herself closer, seemingly as eager for more contact as you are.

There's a moment where your lips disconnect. You fumble with her cardigan, sliding it fully off her upper body before your lips meet once more.

* * *

You've fallen in love with how her body works. The way her lips work so gently and the way they favor your neck as well as your own lips. The way her firm hands fondle your breasts, slip down between your legs and their magical touch as she caresses your inner thighs. You love the way how one flick of her tongue on your clit can send you over the edge with a spew of profanities in tow. The way she whispers sweet nothings in your ears as you come back down from climax. The way her eyes are trained on yours, never leaving.

But most of all you've fallen in love with _her._

* * *

You wake up crying. The tears come sudden and you try your hardest to silence them so to not wake up the sleeping beauty beside you. Shifting your focus you look everywhere other then there. Where she is. If you look, it becomes real. Last night becomes a reality and it's not longer just some little fabrication one could materialize on a lonely night. You sniffle quietly but still she hears. She wakes. She askes if you're okay, her thumb lightly brushing against your (almost) bare chest whilst doing so and you mutter an utterly unconvincing 'yes' in return. She doesn't buy it and even though she doesn't badger you about it, and for that you're glad, it's obvious she's concerned.

And so you lie. You mention that you cry after sex with boys too and you're afraid because it's such a stupid thing to say. You're afraid she'll laugh or think of you as prude. But she doesn't. She simply rolls her eyes and speaks a reply but you're too busy to notice. You watch her play with your hands instead. It's comforting in so many ways. Sex with Aldous was clinical, it was emotionless. It was nothing to you or to him and it's your biggest regret. You know for a fact that neither him nor any of your 'lovers', as it were, would ever of held you like she had the whole night, or stayed in bed long enough to do something as simple as toying with entwined hands. Really, this is the first time sex ever felt safe and...right.

You mention how you could kill for some ice cream and just like that, with an added smile, she rolls off the bed and puts on her red coat and glasses. You love the face she makes. It's absolutely adorable and the butterflies soon start up again, raging a war inside you. Your filter slips again and you don't even bother to try to cover it up because you've become a craven addict to her whole being.

Once you hear the door slamshut you're up on your feet, her robe around you and without a second thought you search for information. You need to give something back to Leekie. You don't want to but it's your job. You rummage through documents on her desk, in her drawers but it's seems too obvious and you know for a fact that Cosima isn't so stupid to leave any valuable information about the clones in plain site. Your eyes scan the room and settle on the bookshelf to the left. You pick up a silver briefcase but it's contents are non-existent.

Behind an upturned vase you find what you're looking for. Opening the folder you take out the stash of extensive amount of documents raging from printed passports to an A3 sheet with pictures of all the known clones along a line. Some have crosses through whilst only one has a line connecting to someone other then a clone. A little girl.

Your hand clasps over your mouth. You have to ring it in.

You phone Aldous and skim through the information, giving out the names of both the alive and deceased clones. He asks about Sarah and you figure he doesn't know about the child. She's an anomaly and you can't think of anyone worse to entrust that information with other then him. You hang up quickly, yet another lie passes your lips and you pretend that she's arriving back with the Eskimo Pies she promised you.

That's something you do rather well, you lie. Since joining the study it became a second nature for you to lie. To everyone and anyone who required it. Learned behaviour some would say since you're sure that you learnt it from Aldous. He lies, you lie and it hasn't harmed anyone. Yet. But lies get discovered and feelings get hurt, hearts get broken and life's get turned upside down. Lies always have consquences, and you're apprehensive about the consquences of yours.

You regather the information and put the folder back in it's original position. You slide her robe off and worm your way back into bed before, not nearly five minutes later when she returns, she can rejoin you. Together you eat the Eskimo Pies and discuss whatever comes to mind and you notice that when Cosima begins to talk she seems to forget she's holding ice cream, as it begins to make it's way down her chest.

You edge closer to her, tentatively licking off the trail of vanilla from off her chest before it can reach her breats. She's already stopped talking but again she seems to forget about the item of food within her hands and as she leans in to kiss you it rubs off on the side of your cheek. You wince at the contact, at the sudden sensation of cold skin on warm skin and the frozen ice cream touching your cheekbones. She's cold because you sent her to get you ice cream and the least you could do is warm her up. So after she wipes off the ice cream from your cheek, not daring to use her tongue but instead using a tissue from her bedside table, you enlope her in a hug which is neither friendly nor romantic but just is what it is.

So you stay like that for a while, arms around each other, just simply enjoying the contact. The company ain't that bad either.


End file.
